The Rhodes Method

twenty-six

Don't let this darkness fool you
All lights turned off can be turned on
I'll drive, I'll drive all night
I'll call your mom
-- Call Your Mom, Noah Kahan

OCTAVIA RHODES

"Exactly," Cole tells me, flicking off the car radio. "If you're a little more compact, a little lower on the ice then you can react faster."

I nod slowly. Grabbing another chip from the bag between us, I ask before popping it into my mouth, "I don't react fast?"

"You can react faster."

I'll take Cole's advice. I know he's not talking out of his ass; he has the skills to prove it. Not that I've seen him on the ice before, but even I cannot deny that I've heard about his games for the school team.

"You could improve your edgework as well. It's good enough, but I'd say try a few more drills over the summer. Push off one foot then recover on the other. Repeat." I nod. "Again, you want to be close to the ice, so try working on lateral pushes. That kind of stuff."

"And my saves?"

Cole shoots me a smirk. "I won't comment on those. You know damn well that your saves are great."

I smile. "I know. Just wanted a compliment."

Cole chuckles. The dark circles under his eyes are still there, but I sense a shift in mood. Admittedly, I really did think that our spontaneous road trip was going to be awkward, and maybe a little tense, but it has been alright so far. Cole has not asked many questions about the wrong things, and it seems to me like he needed something like this. Maybe he's been around people constantly probing, asking questions, and he's finally away from all that.

We still have an hour and a half to go. Cole had to stop for gas and it's still pitch dark outside, but we're managing. He grabbed a few snacks from the gas station as well, so I'm not that hungry anymore.

"But," Cole then opens his mouth to say, to close up again.

"What?" I sit up, dropping my legs from his seat. Angling my body, I observe his face for any hints of what he was going to say. "Spit it out."

"I don't think—" He cuts himself off again. 

"You weren't afraid to tell me what I was doing wrong before. So say it."

"It's not all about your physical game," Cole says slowly, his voice lowering. "It's also about your mentality on the ice."

"I know that," I snap and sit back.

"You might know it, but you don't know how to control yourself."

"Fuck off."

Cole sends me a knowing look. "Like that game at the end of last season. You were off your game because some random players were talking shit."

"They were talking about Myles," I say, my temper flaring. Cole did not blame me back then, I actually remember it quite clearly that he had been on my side. He understood my anger on the ice.

"I know they were," Cole tells me. "But the scouts don't. They don't know what's going inside your head, and if they do know, then they do not care, Octavia."

I sigh and have nothing else to say.

"Stay focused," Cole says forwardly, one of his hands raising from the wheel to stress his point. "Don't lose control and don't give anyone else the advantage of taking control of your emotions."